In winter I get up at night,
And dress by yellow candlelight.
In summer, quite the other way,
I have to go to  bed by day.

I have to go to bed and see
The birds still hopping on the tree,
Or hear the grown-up people's feet
Still going past me in the street.

And does it not seem hard to you,
When all the sky is clear and blue,
And I should like so much to play,
To have to go to bed by day?

   ~Robert Louis Stevenson 1850-1894~